When Bob Dylan’s name comes up in conversation about music, songwriting
or poetry with anyone younger than a certain age, and you get a “Bob
who?” response, it’s almost flummoxing to first-generation fans.

For anyone even remotely aware of American pop culture over the past 40
years, it would be tough to miss the direct impact and lasting
influence of Dylan’s songs, and/or his shape-shifting life in and out
of the public eye. There’s been almost as much written about him as
there has been about the Beatles.

However, let’s face it: There are people walking around now who’ve
never heard of the guy, or have no awareness of him beyond simple name
recognition.

It’s
not just teens and college-aged people, either. Two years ago, at a
local coffeehouse, I caught a set performed by a 30-something pop-folk
singer/songwriter/multi-instrumentalist I won’t embarrass by naming.
His originals had a James Taylor-esque confessional flavor, and he did
justice to a couple of early Beatles covers.

We talked
after the show. I asked about his songwriting influences, and he
mentioned people like Lennon, Taylor and Carole King. “How about Bob
Dylan?” I tossed out, thinking as soon as it passed my lips what a
moron I was for belaboring the obvious.

“Yeah, I’ve heard of him, but never got into his music,” he said offhandedly. “I couldn’t get past his voice.”

I should have looked at him incredulously for a beat, then busted out
in uproarious laughter and said something flip and derogatory about the
depth and breadth of his pop cultural ignorance. Such as: “Dude,
Dylan’s voice may be an acquired taste, but it’s about the SONGS.”
And/or: “What do you think J.T. was listening to coming up?” And/or:
“Where do you think Lennon got the stones to write stuff like ‘You’ve
Got to Hide Your Love Away,’ ‘Norwegian Wood’ and ‘’In My Life’?”

Instead, I was flummoxed. My response was a weak, “Hmm…” and a change
of subject. Well, young fans who probably didn’t know about Dylan,
either, surrounded him. It would have been a real buzz kill for me to
try to break it down for him just then. So I just shut up, and tried to
get my head around how anyone his age singing original songs and
accompanying himself on guitar would not think of Dylan as an icon.

Actually, when someone says, “Bob who?” and he or she sounds as though
they really want to know, and they’re willing to invest a little time
to listen, I think it could be a real kick to be the first to turn
someone on to the former Robert Zimmerman, born in Duluth and raised in
Hibbing, Minnesota.

Like when Dylan turned the Beatles on to pot in New York in 1964. What
a delicious moment that must have been for Bob, who thought they were
fellow stoners because they were singing “I get high” in “I Want to
Hold Your Hand,” when in fact the lyric was really “I can’t hide,” and
they were actually pill heads (uppers). They all had a larf about that.

The Best of Bob Dylan is the perfect package for such a turn-on. I’d
hand the initiate a copy, and offer some encouragement.

“Dylan’s a great poet and songwriter you ought to know more about,” I’d
say. “This album is an excellent point of entry. It’s the first
single-disc collection that spans his career all the way from July
1962’s earnest ‘Blowin’ in the Wind’ to 2001’s
throw-caution-to-the-wind ‘Summer Days’ – even if only four tracks
represent his adventures during the last 25 years.

“Listen to it in sequence, tracks 1-16, which are mostly chronological,
and read Bill Flanagan’s liner notes for context,” I would add. “Forget
about Bob’s voice – listen to his phrasing. It’s really about the songs
and the cinematic imagery of his writing, and how almost every track
sounds different, as he worked with different producers and musicians
and experimented with different ways to frame his songs.”

Then I’d shut up and let time take its course. In a bit more than an
hour, the listener would travel with Dylan’s restless spirit through 40
years of phases and stages of search, discovery and escape; heartbreak
and hardening; and perhaps even self-realization.

What a remarkable journey it was from 1963’s “The Times They Are
A-Changin’” (“Come Congressmen, Senators, please heed the call…”) to
1999’s “Things Have Changed” (“I used to care, but things have
changed…”). I’d program just those two tracks back to back for my
freshly minted Dylan fan. That’d get the point across inside of 10
minutes with all the subtlety of a two-by-four upside the head.

The Best of Bob Dylan’s packaging drives home that four-decade stretch, too, but far more subtly.

When you open up the CD package, on the left side you see Don
Hunstein’s archival photo of young Bob with baby-fat, circa 1962. Then
as you slowly slide the liner notes booklet out of the left sleeve, you
see Ken Regan’s back cover portrait of the grizzled Vaquero carney
sixtysomething Bob looking over his left shoulder (like a Siamese cat)
(sorry, couldn’t resist) back toward his younger-than-yesterday (ditto)
persona.

Kudos to graphic designer Geoff Gans, who does Dylan’s packages.
(Disclosure: Gans and I were nominated for Grammys as compilers/
producers of the 1992 Monterey International Pop Festival box set. He
also designed the package and I wrote the liner notes book.)

Soak up these two images and marvel at the things that happened between

the times they were taken, the stories in the lines on the face, and wonder about the mysteries Dylan has yet to reveal.

To receptive ears, hearing The Best of Bob Dylan could be a
life-changing experience. By the end of “Summer Days,” the listener
should be both exhausted and exhilarated. He or she will either hate
Dylan or be voraciously hungry to hear and know more.

If the latter, I’d introduce them next to Dylan’s Chronicles Vol. 1
book/CD, Martin Scorcese’s “No Direction Home” film (now on DVD and
PBS) and two-CD soundtrack album, and Dylan’s “Theme Time Radio Hour”
on XM.

Then I’d throw the novice into the deep end – Dylan’s complete catalog
of albums. Hearing the songs in their original context brings it all
back home. As Flanagan points out, there’s a complete album or more of
stuff for new fans to wade through behind every track on The Best of
Bob Dylan.

So you’d better start swimming….

Sound
Columbia’s Legacy division has treated Dylan’s catalog well in the past
decade. All these tracks are the released versions, remastered and
presented here in 16-bit stereo. The tracks originally recorded on
analog equipment sound crisper and cleaner than they did on vinyl, and
there are no surprises on the tracks recorded digitally. Considering
the 40-year time span, the variety of Dylan’s producers and band
lineups, and the developments in recording technology in that time, the
overall consistency of sound from track 1 through 16 is impressive.